Thursday, December 2

one good trip

He is in the bathroom shaving while I take a shower. He is shirtless and leaning into the counter, the mirror fogging up quickly. I am watching him like the poem--water becomes an erotic passageway for him--and loving everything about him. I look away to wash my hair and by the time it's rinsed clean, he has joined me. His body is slick and his face is smooth when he kisses me.

Before I can think of a really good reason to stop him (really, it's difficult when he's so willing), he's got me backed up against the wall, biting my lip and shivering at the sudden cold air while his lips, tongue, hands, and eyes gift me moans to stifle.

After he holds me against him, under the water again to warm me up. "You owe me," he says, "later. You've got to tell me what it is I did so good this time." I giggle, he kisses me again and slips away. "Gotta go. Love you."

I stand in the shower until the water gets cold, a lot delirious as I come down. And some people think you need drugs to get high.